I have no idea how long she’ll be gone, so I use the time to whip my head around and try to find anything that can help me. It’s still dark outside, which means morning has not yet come. How long was I out? Did Richard even get my text? And what the hell do I expect him to do, come kick the door down and wrestle this lunatic to the ground?
Everything in the room is what I remember from before. Nothing I can obviously use as a weapon, even if I could free myself. Moving my feet is impossible. I yank against the tape binding my wrists, and it twists a little. There’s a little room there. Maybe, with time, I could make some progress. But there is no time.
Brenda reappears, grabbing the stool next to the drafting table and setting it in front of me. Then she sets a laptop down, and with the flair of a magician revealing the surprise under a handkerchief, she yanks open the screen. Skype.
A man stares directly at me.
Then Brenda says, “Alice, meet your number one fan.”